


A Measure of Trust

by minnabird



Series: A Pair of Mages 'verse [2]
Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen, Magic, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 20:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10578789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnabird/pseuds/minnabird
Summary: Weaving the spells needed to cross the Emerald Ocean was never the challenge, as it turns out. For Thom, sharing magic is the real challenge.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Coppercrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coppercrow/gifts).



> Just a small follow-up, because I kept thinking about these two (and about the magic!)

Numair’s magic wove glinting black-and-silver threads around the ship they’d found, a small sailboat meant for a crew of one. They were in the open water beyond the harbor, dusk bleeding into night as they set their spells. Numair had begun with the Storm Anchor, a piece of magic meant to keep a ship steady in the midst of a storm. 

As Thom watched, Numair’s black eyes opened, and he reached out a hand. Thom took hold of the Storm Anchor, gripping with his magic rather than his hand. It soothed his mind, how quickly and easily Numair had constructed his piece. He could feel enough, with the magic held in his mind, to know that it was sound.

The wind began to pick up, lifting Thom’s hair off his forehead, then whistle eerily around the mast. Now came the next part. Numair summoned the winds and wound and wove them around the ship, a cocoon of gales. Thom held his breath and held the Anchor steady as the winds strained against it. Sweat broke out on his brow; if the Anchor broke away from him, they would be swept out to sea. The winds pushed at his magical grip again, then suddenly redirected as Numair placed the mark of binding he would use to control their movement.

Thom’s ears popped, and he let out a sigh of relief as the world inside the Storm Anchor went still. For the length and width of their small deck, all was quiet. Thom lifted his face, following the line of the mast up to where the Storm Anchor’s boundary ended overhead. He could almost see the winds there, twisting around the magical barrier. His eyes fell to Numair, and the other mage smiled. 

“Almost,” he said. “Now we link up.”

This was the hard part, for sharing a spell took a measure of trust. Thom summoned a curl of purple fire, then held his hand out to Numair. Numair’s palm met his, and the hair on the back of Thom’s neck stood on end as he felt, rather than saw, Numair’s fire meet his own. _You have to let him in,_ Thom thought, heart racing. Slowly, he nudged a door inside him open, allowing the braid of magics, his and Numair’s, to snake a line inside him. He could feel the connection, now, feel the delicate balance of Numair’s two spells, as close as his own heartbeat. Numair’s fingers brushed along his palm as he pulled his hand away, and Thom caught his breath.

_It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s nothing._

The last he had felt another person’s magic so close, Roger’s sick Gift had been inside him, clawing at him. This was not that, he reminded himself, breathing deeply as he tried to focus on placing his links to the Storm Anchor and the winds just so, so that at a tug he could bring one or the other into line. He had control, here, and could release the magic whenever he needed to. Thom opened his eyes when he had placed his magic and his heart in order.

“Try the winds now,” he said. “I’ll hold us steady.”


End file.
